Sunday, July 26, 2009

Garage Sale Therapy

With no sense of direction and a hair trigger alarm to anything unforeseen, I rely heavily on my gps to assure arrival to most every destination. With any deviation from my intended course, I become (even more) disoriented and emotional.  I surrender wholly to erratic decisions and their consequences.

Getting lost on Saturday and Sunday morning, while stressful, does however have perks. If time permits, any garage sale sign may serve as my beacon of hope, furnishing immediate calming.

Recently, en route to see my counselor/therapist person ( I feel queer saying therapist, posing as one who might say "After getting my double, tall, half-caf, non-fat, no foam latte with my fiancé, I visit my therapist".... like its posh to be effed up.).

Anyway, “therapist” called to say she would be late. So while squandering time and gas, I lost my way. As if by magic, a garage sale appeared in my path. From the street,
a shiny Kettler Trike grabbed my eye. Affirming my need for "therapy", I spun an erratic u-turn, scrambled to the tricycle where a little girl was lingering, and seized it before she could wave her mother over. I paid my $4 and fled with trike in hand. What kind of person does that? One who needs therapy.

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